


baby, i don't wanna think about it (all i wanna be is under your control)

by emeraldcitydowntowngirl



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Pete, M/M, Restraints, Sleepy Sex, Top!Patrick, cause i mean patrick has his on, half clothed sex, not really handcuffs but i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl/pseuds/emeraldcitydowntowngirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> There’s something so beautiful about the way that the fire-engine red silk tie contrasts against Pete’s skin, next to the barely-fading ink on his wrists- it’s one of the reasons that Patrick doesn’t like using actual handcuffs on Pete. The other reason would be that the only pair that they own is a gift from Gabe Saporta, and they are fluffy and are leopard print, so, uh, no. <i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, i don't wanna think about it (all i wanna be is under your control)

**Author's Note:**

> a practice drabble (not really a drabble but oh well) that i wrote and then published cause i like attention and kudos... :/
> 
> title from the song "dopamine" by BØRNS AKA the best song to ever exist!!!! it's literally magical!

There’s something so beautiful about the way that the fire-engine red silk tie contrasts against Pete’s skin, next to the barely-fading ink on his wrists- it’s one of the reasons that Patrick doesn’t like using actual handcuffs on Pete. The other reason would be that the only pair that they own is a gift from Gabe Saporta, and they are fluffy and are leopard print, so, uh, _no_.

Patrick still has on his clothes, which strangely makes all of the difference; Pete is laid out on the bed, tattooed and dark, and he’s tied with bright, bright silk, and Patrick’s not; his shirt is stuck to his white, sweat-slicked body, and his cock strains against his boxers and the zipper of his jeans. Patrick’s on his hands and knees, but his hands are on opposite sides of Pete’s body, almost like he’s preying over Pete, ready to pounce.

“ _Please_ hurry the fuck up.” Pete pleads, but he’s not necessarily begging either; he’s smirking up at Patrick through his faux innocent expression. He knows that Patrick would give him anything he asked of him _eventually_. (Key word  eventually \- seriously. Patrick can make him beg when he wants him to, but this feels a lot more playful and light, even though Pete’s restrained.)

“Or what?” Patrick asks, but he reaches over for the bottle of lube on the bedside table anyways; Pete’s feet kick out a little in anticipation, and he tugs on the tie, mostly as a reminder that it’s there.

“I don’t know.” Pete says mostly to himself, watching as Patrick pours a little too much onto his fingers. But then Patrick blinks at him, his baby blue eyes staring deep into Pete’s brown eyes as he smears the excess over Pete’s hole, and Pete’s hips immediately roll up into Patrick’s body as he sucks in a breath. Patrick just smiles, and rests one hand on Pete’s hipbone, pressing him back onto the mattress.

“Patience,” is the only thing that Patrick says, leaning down to kiss under Pete’s ribs, teasing a finger over Pete’s entrance, which to Pete is totally unfair, because Patrick can’t say “Patience” and then tease him to the end of the world and back. But he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world, being so under Patrick’s control even though he’s barely restrained by a silk tie and Patrick’s hands. He feels so sensitive, every time Patrick’s finger dips in a little more, he lets out a low hiss.

“Just wanna feel you, _nngh_ , Patrick,” Pete closes his eyes, and his head lolls on one of his pillow when Patrick pushes a single finger all the way in. Patrick’s no longer really in between Pete’s legs as much as he’s just leaning over one of Pete’s legs so that he can have better access, but Pete still feels close to him when Patrick presses a kiss along his sternum and asks “Are you okay?”

Patrick’s finger feels almost like waves, everything is so rhythmic and timed, and precise, and Pete bares down on it the best he can. “I’m perfect.” Pete says, low and deep. It almost feels like falling asleep, if falling asleep included being half-hard, and a finger in his ass.

“Baby… are you falling asleep?” Patrick asks, a little laugh in his voice, and he looks up to gauge Pete’s reaction. Pete looks down at him, dirty blond hair all tangled through his blurred vision, and he says a little sheepishly “I’m tired.”

“Do you want me to untie you?” Patrick asks, another finger teasing at his entrance. He pushes the second finger in as Pete shakes his head, and Pete kicks his feet again “ _Hurry_ so we can cuddle and sleep.”

“Someone’s bossy,” But Patrick’s movements quicken significantly, although they feel just as calming; his fingers stretch and pull at Pete, and it always feel moderately pleasant at best, mostly because Patrick doesn’t actively search for his prostate until he’s fucking him, but this time, Patrick goes straight for it. Pete yells when Patrick hits it at first, and his toes curl.

“You said you wanted me to hurry up.” Patrick says, blushing a little at Pete’s reaction, and his hips roll with the motion of his fingers. Pete can feel Patrick’s boner against his thigh, and he sighs “I _do_ , I do, come on, come on, come on, come-“

“I know, Pete, I know. Do you want my clothes on, or-“ Pete’s quick on this question- “On.”

It’s just of Pete’s things; he moans when he feels rough denim against his body, and the cotton of Patrick’s shirt is so foreign on Pete’s skin. Yet Patrick’s kiss is so familiar, the way that the head of his cock pressed against him, pressing into him, is like coming home.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Pete’s eyes practically roll back into his head as he adjusts, and Patrick watches over him carefully, bringing a hand up to rest over Pete’s.

“Okay, okay, please, please, move.” Pete says, finally, and Patrick presses Pete’s hands into the headboard a little harder as he pulls almost entirely out, before slamming back in. The material of Patrick’s jeans brush against his balls, and Pete tugs harder at the ties, savoring in the feeling of Patrick’s hand pushing it back harder. Everything feels slower because he’s tired and sleepy, like the only thing he can feel is how thick Patrick is, the way that Patrick’s hot breath makes his neck tingly, the sounds of Patrick’s low grunts as he thrusts in and out.

“ _Fuck_ , I’m gonna fall the fuck asleep.” Pete says, and Patrick looks down at him and blinks. He hits Pete’s prostate hard and Pete lets out a long whine as he says back “I don’t know if I should be offended.”

“It’s just,” Pete rolls his head to the side, and Patrick presses a kiss to the newly exposed skin “so relaxing, you feel so good, you’re so gentle even though,” He has to catch his breath. “even though you’re literally in my ass.”

Pete could even say that they’re not even fucking as much as they’re making love, which makes Pete’s insides feel more like jelly, because normally Pete’s into biting sex, and the kind of stuff that makes his toes curl, not this gooey, slow stuff, but it feels so intimate and steamy, and _nice_.

Patrick’s hand over Pete’s never wavers, but he presses just a little harder as his thrusts get a little harder, and a little faster. His shirt is covered in both his and Pete’s sweat, and everything is hot, and Pete’s body jolts back up into Patrick’s every time he hits his prostate, so Patrick’s naturally close.

“I’m gonna come,” Patrick pants into the crook of Pete’s neck, and Pete hums “Do it then.”

And it’s really that easy; he lets out one last grunt before he comes deep in Pete’s ass. Pete moans loud at the feeling of it, but Patrick’s quick to pull out. His hand moves down and Patrick immediately sinks 3 fingers to make up for the difference, and Pete sobs at it, because it’s not the same, but it’s almost more. His fingers jab at his prostate and move quickly, and Patrick bites down hard on a mark on Pete’s collarbone.

“Patrick, _please_.” Pete pleads again, and it only takes a couple of tight strokes on his cock for Pete to come, spurts over Patrick’s shirt, with a tired sigh.

After that, Pete’s not sure what happens; he knows he feels Patrick’s slippery hands on his, he knows he feels the silk slip off of his wrists like butter, and he knows he curls into Patrick’s body, but after that, he falls into a deep sleep. And it’s still hot as a sauna in their room, but he’s got Patrick next to him, smelling like strawberry lube and sweat, and that’s all that he really needs.

**Author's Note:**

> i also wrote this because there's a little too much bottom!pete hate on my dashboard and i guess i'm not above pettiness in the form of shitty smut? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
